


Flamingo Croquet

by makingitwork



Series: Stalker Hotch [5]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fluff, Happy Ending, Love, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Punishment, Vibrator, Whips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-14
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2018-02-04 16:50:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1786264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makingitwork/pseuds/makingitwork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hotch doesn't believe Spencer could love him.</p><p>And almost ruins it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flamingo Croquet

**Author's Note:**

> Love you guys...

Aaron woke up with a start.

For no reason, he just startled, and he sat up, breathing heavily, looking around the dark room, only to discover that his bed was empty. He growled. Spencer was an incredibly heavy sleeper, he didn't wake up in the middle of the night. He stood, opening a drawer, and pulling out a gun, tucking it into the back of his shirt, angry. He and Spencer had been doing so well. They'd mostly forgotten that Hotch had kidnapped him, well- Hotch had thought. But if this was another stupid fucking escape attempt...he didn't like punishing Spencer aside from normal pain play, but the kid was forcing his hand.

He crept down the steps, and frowned when he saw the living room light on, angry had the genius robbed him too- and the sight he saw when he founded the corner melted away his anger. Spencer was sat on the red carpet, near the hearty fireplace, crossed legged, laptop in front of him, clicking away, a cup of coffee beside him, dressed in one of Aaron's button up shirts, fully buttoned aside from the top few, it barely covered him modestly, and his boy band hair cast shadows into his face. 

"Spencer?"

The lanky genius looked up, apologetic "Sorry, did I wake you? I tried to be quiet-"

"What are you doing?" Aaron rubbed his eyes, tucking the gun further away out of sight, he leaned against the armchair, looking down and Spencer beamed up at him

"I was looking up places nearby that sell Christmas Trees!" He exclaimed, clapping his hands "There's a place a few miles, but there's a further one with a greater range, they also sell decorations! I was thinking about lights and we should probably put it near the corner, but near enough to the fireplace so it looks cosy, there's an outlet back there too, so it should work." He nodded, pleased with himself and Aaron just stared at him. Spencer frowned "Christmas Decorations?"

"Why?" Hotch shook his head "Everything looks great now, and we do without every other month of the year,"

"But this is Christmas." Spencer pointed out, and he looked up at Aaron "Are we really not getting a tree?"

The heartbreak on his face but Hotch bleed love, Spencer looked younger, more endearing than usual, desperation and pleading on his angular face. His brown eyes glittered, and Hotch felt truly, truly bad, this was their first Christmas- and he'd never imagined Spencer would be so excited over it. He felt as though he was kicking a puppy, his puppy, and he didn't like it. "No." He said firmly. 

"Okay," Spencer whispered, closing the laptop, blinking back tears, he got to his feet, setting the coffee on the table, hugging himself "We should..." he sniffed "Get back to bed." And he walked past Aaron up the stairs. Aaron's heart throbbed painfully, Spencer was even in his shirt. The boy-wonder had done everything right, but still...Aaron watched him leave, before picking up the laptop and pushing open the lid. Pages of research- a thing Spencer would have spent ages on, and- another guilty kick, Spencer had been working on this for three weeks, sneaking down at night and researching. 

Hotch sighed, gripping the counter, before heading up to bed to apologise, and maybe explain why, but Spencer was already asleep, tear stains on his cheeks. Aaron slipped in beside him and wrapped his arms around the lithe body, but even in his subconscious, Spencer pulled away. Hotch's eyes stung, but he let him roll out of his grasp.

...  
...  
...

"Am I allowed to get you a gift?" Spencer asked the next morning, he wasn't being snide, but incredibly submissive, more than he'd been in a long time, almost devoid of life. Hotch looked up from his toast, to see Spencer, dressed in a pink shirt and waistcoat with jeans, he had a job now. A small thing, working two hours a day in the library, just so he could read and go out. But he had to text Hotch every hour, and if he wasn't back on time- all hell broke lose. His head was bowed, eyes downcast, breakfast untouched. 

"Spence...I'm not trying to be a Scrooge, I just...don't want any decorations."

"And I need to remember that your word goes." Spencer murmured, still not looking up "I need to remember than even though you said this home was for me, and that we're together, and that you love me, it doesn't matter what I think, it doesn't matter how many ideas I have, or what I want to try, because you'll always get the deciding vote, and you'll always be in charge." He glanced at his watch "We need to get going,"

"You haven't eaten anything."

"I'm not hungry."

"Spencer." Hotch said more firmly, and Spencer's lips curled into a half smile, as if to say 'I told you' and he took a bite of his breakfast. Hotch sighed "I don't want you to ever think like that. This home is for you, everything I do is for you, I let you get a job, Spencer! I keep giving you more and more freedom, I try to give you everything you want, you know that. I can't stand it when you're not happy." He ran his hands over his black hair, green eyes shining "Dress the house up for Easter, and Birthdays, but not Christmas. It's just a rule Spencer,"

"If I can't have that, I want something else."

"Anything."

"I want to Skype Derek."

"N-"

"You promised anything!" Spencer cut in, eyes wide and desperate "I need to...I need to see him, I need to...you know they won't be able to trace it, and I won't say anything, I'm not stupid, I just want to see hi-" Spencer was cut off by a blow to the side of his head, and he was sent smashing to the ground, head whacking the tiled kitchen floor, and he whimpered, curling up into the foetal position. Watching as Hotch's shoes came into his line of sight- a sharp kick to the middle of his ribs had him crying in pain, and then the horror at realising he was being sent to the shed had him screaming, begging Hotch for forgiveness, declaring his love, but Hotch didn't say anything, shoving in the vibrator, turning on the whips, tightening the restraints, and leaving him there.

...  
...  
...

"Sounds like he's in trouble," the nosy, all-knowing next door neighbour nodded, as she watered and sorted her plants. Hotch glared at her, before his shoulders slumped, it was the next day, and he had stepped out onto the deck in the sunshine, the sounds of the whips cracking down, but no whimpering from Spencer, he was probably unconscious. 

"You could say that."

"Shame too, he was doing so well," the old woman sighed "Looked as though he really loved you."

Hotch flinched at that. Loved him? Spencer had screamed it while Hotch dragged him to the shed, but he didn't know if that meant anything, Spencer was probably frightened to death. No. He couldn't love him. That would be far too good to be true. Hotch was confident- but he wasn't the luckiest man in the universe. "He didn't." He said assuredly, and the old woman's eyebrows rose

"Really?" she whispered, leaning in "What did he do?"

"He...he wanted to get a Christmas Tree." Hotch murmured, knowing how stupid it sounded, the old woman snickered

"Ah yes, sure as hell doesn't love you. Wanting to bring in his own traditions, god, he must've thought you cared about his decision." Hotch stared at her, and the old woman shrugged "He came to me while you were at work, asked what I thought about decorations, if I had any lights he could borrow, said he wanted to surprise you, give you something because of all you had given him," she gestured to the house "He'd been planning on rewiring the circuits, and the doorbell," she chuckled "Said he loved Christmas almost as much as he loved you."

Hotch stared at her unfathomably "He didn't say that." He whispered, barely a croak "He didn't do any of that." Because Spencer couldn't. He couldn't have cared about Hotch! He couldn't have loved him! He couldn't want to make him happy "You're lying."

"You're still standing here? While he's being punished for loving you? Didn't you promise you'd never use the vibrator? Don't you remember how scared he was of you after that? How can you still be standing here yelling at an old woman, while as each second passes, he loves you less and less-"

"How do you know all that?" Hotch demanded, angry, desperate, emotions all a fray. The woman shrugged, and pottered back into her house, closing the backdoor behind her. Hotch ran to the shed, tearing the door open, and flicking off the whips, pulling out the vibrator- too roughly, catching, and Spencer started to bleed. "Shit," he whispered, eyes watering "Spencer? Spencer!" But the young genius didn't open his eyes, Hotch cut the restraints, and carried Spencer into the house, kicking the door shut and rushing him up to the bathroom, filling the large tub with hot water, he stripped them both off, eyes still bleary as Spencer remained limp and lifeless, and he was sliding them both into the hot, soapy, bubbly water, clutching Spencer too him, rubbing life back into him. 

Spencer awoke with a jerking movement, whining in pain as his welts were exposed to the hot water, and he realised where he was. He sobbed pitifully "My insides hurt," he whispered, and he felt Hotch sit up straighter behind him, kissing his shoulder

"I'm so sorry baby, I wasn't thinking, I-"

Spencer flopped, squirming violently to get out of his grip, and ended up opposite him in the tub, knees drawn up to his chest, tears streaming down his face, body convulsing "You promised!" He accused, brown eyes swimming "You said you wouldn't used the vibrator!" He drew in a heaving breath, choking on air "Y-You p-pr-promised!" he cried harder,, half grunts of pain, and Hotch wiped his own eyes

"Spencer, I'm so sorry, it was a mistake, I love you-"

"No!" Spencer cried, tears not stopping "You don't. You don't, you don't you don't, and I was naïve to think you ever could! You're a stalker, a psychopath, you're incapable of real love, and I-" he choked on air again "I have to remember that."

"No, baby-"

"I want to go home!" Spencer cried, burying his face into his knees "I wanna go home, and I don't want to be here anymore!"

Hotch wept.

...  
...  
...

Spencer disappeared then. 

In his place, was a void, vacant being that just looked like him. That just took it when Hotch fucked him, hard and deep, not even a whimper of want, or a moan of desperation, he didn't seem to care whether he came or not. He made dinner, answered when Hotch questioned him, and spent as much of the day as he could in the library. 

"Stop it, Spencer," Hotch whispered finally, when he couldn't take it anymore

"I'm sorry Sir, is there something wrong?" Spencer asked quietly, mindlessly, respectfully, head bowed, hands clasped as he knelt at the floor by Hotch's feet.

"Stop acting like you're my...slave or something, you're not!"

"Yes I am. You kidnapped me, I'm your slave. I do what you say or get punished, Sir."

"Spencer please," Hotch begged "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be sorry Sir, you didn't do anything wrong."

...  
...  
...

"Spence, Spence, wake up," Hotch shook him up, and Spencer blinked wearily, before seeing Hotch so he slid out of bed, landing gracefully on his knees, hands up to work on his belt "Woah! What are you doing?"

"Sorry, does Sir wish to use my ass?"

"Christ Spencer- stop it!" Hotch snapped, grabbing Spencer's arm and hauling him up "I get it, I don't treat you like an equal, I'm sorry, just..." the older man smiled "Come on," and he pulled him downstairs. Spencer gasped when he saw it. Everything was decorated, the tree, tinsel, lights, fireplace roaring, a Christmas tune playing in the background. It was beautiful. And then there was a laptop positioned in the middle of it all, with Skype set up, all Spencer had to do was connect. He looked up at Hotch wide eyed, who only smile tightly, and went back upstairs, leaving Spencer to it.

The young, ex-agent, went to the laptop, clicked connect, and almost started crying when Morgan's face filled the screen "Morgan," he choked

"Pretty boy," Morgan's voice was longing and beautiful "Merry Christmas. I miss you,"

...  
...  
...

Hotch stood anxiously when Spencer came back, two hours later, looking like...Spencer. Eyes no longer dull and vacant, he was smiling, and Hotch arched an eyebrow "I profiled you, with Derek, about Christmas." Hotch stiffened, and Spencer softened "You should have told me. I get it, your parents were...they didn't let you celebrate it. But you should have told me, not just- lock me up and-"

"I know, Spence," Hotch whispered "I know. I'm sorry. But...I just forget sometimes, that you're...you're the love of my life. You know that right?"

Spencer nodded, hugging Aaron tightly "I didn't mean it when I said I wanted to go home. You're not a psychopath. I love you too,"

Hotch let out a relieved, jagged sigh, arms wrapped tight around Spencer's waist "I'm getting rid of the shed punishment. Never again. I swear, alright?" Spencer nodded, grinning, as he slid down the length of Hotch's body, and started unbuckling his belt. "Fuck," Hotch hissed "Spence, you don't have too."

"I know, but I want too," he licked his lips eagerly "I wanna make you feel good."

"Baby, you do that anyway,"

Spencer smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Comment?  
> x


End file.
